


Text Me

by fayfayfay



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Texting, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 12:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayfayfay/pseuds/fayfayfay
Summary: I wrote this in 2010.Chekov is a nerdy high school student who can't believe he's involved in a sexting relationship with the cool athlete Hikaru Sulu.





	Text Me

**Title:** Text Me  
**Pairing:** Chekov/Sulu  
**Summary:** High School AU for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/7137.html?thread=5968609#t5968609): _...sexting. And then afterward, they actually ~do it~._

At first Pavel A. Chekov wonders whether it’s even him. It’s entirely possible someone is posing as Hikaru Sulu, that someone he doesn’t even know is getting him off at nights. He hadn’t recognized the number when ‘Hikaru’ first texted him, and they’d yet to even make eye contact in the hallway. 

_I want you to look at me when you try to drink up all my come_. That’s what Hikaru had said last night, in his text, and what finally sped up Pavel’s hand, pushing him over the edge.

Or maybe someone else had said it. It could be someone else, Pavel thinks as he stares boldly at Hikaru walking past, shrouded by his friends. In fact it would probably be better that way, less embarrassing. Hikaru wouldn’t know how desperately Pavel wants him, how often he thinks about him. 

Just when he’s getting comfortable with the idea, wondering who else would know enough about his stupid crush to go around impersonating him, Hikaru stares straight at him and _winks_ , something only Pavel can see. Pavel buries his head in the locker immediately and feels his face burn up as he breathes hard in to the dark. 

It’d been three weeks ago. 

_There must be hundreds of guys your type in San Francisco_ he’d reassured definitely-Hikaru, who said he’d gotten the number from a friend, though which of Hikaru’s friends made of a habit of collecting never-used phone numbers of immigrant nerds remained unspecified. 

_what’s my type_ , Hikaru had responded, and Pavel could feel it in his stomach, he could tell he was being flirted with and the completely new sensation threw him from a thousand cliffs. 

_idk.. popular_

_popular’s not all it’s cracked up to be.. those guys aren’t too great_

_you’re popular and you’re pretty great_ , the message was out and sent before Pavel could stop himself, and what remained was this pseudo sexual relationship he and Hikaru had developed without ever acting on, at least in real life. 

When Pavel goes home at night he has a routine, most of it homework and holing up in a dark bedroom, maybe taking a walk with his headphones in, coming to dinner if his parents are home and making instant noodles if they aren’t. Now, around seven he feels a buzz in his pocket and it’s always the same thing. 

_Hey babe_ it always begins, and at first Pavel was divided on the name, a prideful fraction of him indignant, but he still closes his eyes and smiles and lets himself enjoy it, this being valuable enough to warrant “babe”, as if he were one of the girls Hikaru’s friends chased after and invited to parties. Someone who had to be cajoled in to texting Hikaru less than proper things. 

_Hey_ ; he types several things: Hikaru, bro, dude, all of it stupid shit that he deletes with a blush before sending only the single word, thrilling all the while: the longer he takes to respond to these messages, the prouder of himself he is, and the happier he is when Hikaru answers within seconds. After that, it’s a split shot: Hikaru will either chit chat, talking about classes or watching Pavel in the hall, or, Pavel’s favorite, he’ll launch directly in to something incredibly graphic, something Pavel would never send without provocation, little gems that make his mouth water and somehow make him feel both objectified and ridiculously special. 

_I’m so fucking hard thinking about you_

_I want you to pull yourself off thinking about this:_

_Are you hard? I’m gonna suck that cock down as soon as I see it_

_Are you ready to come all over yourself_

Pavel’s already halfway through typing a response to one of these standard openers when he gets a new text: _Do you wanna take a picture for me_

He’s been dreading this for a while. He knows it’s a pretty standard request; there’s enough horror stories and _Hey, did you see that picture of Janice Rand?_ going around school for him to catch on. Pavel’s reluctant, though, still afraid after the three weeks they’ve been doing this that it’s all a hoax and he’ll go to school the next day to find transcripts and pictures of his dorky, naked body posted all along the hallways. He thinks he’d probably be more willing if he could somehow set his phone up so it looks like someone else took the picture, so that it looks like Hikaru took it while he looked flirtatiously in to the camera. However mortified he’d be to ever get caught at this, a part of him can’t help but want everyone to know he’s doing it, that he gets under Hikaru’s skin like this, just with words.

He considers turning him down for half a second before he realizes he could have Hikaru, too. He could have a picture of him half naked or totally naked and God, he wants to see everything. He used to take his homework to the bleachers after school, just to see Hikaru run track, his shining gym shorts hitching up on his tanned thighs. He and Jim Kirk would race each other and after fighting over who won, would sometimes wrestle and beat on eachother on the hot tarmac; one time Jim nearly got Hikaru’s shirt off and Pavel felt like he would die with envy, all the while trying too hard to make it look like he wasn’t staring, trying to hide his erection under his binder. 

_If I get one from you_ , he sends, praying for the affirmative, his heart pounding. 

He does, and it’s fucking brilliant: it’s blurry, but Hikaru’s not wearing a shirt and Pavel can see the mouth watering shade of his skin under the fluorescent lights of his bathroom. Hikaru’s smiling, that cocky half smile, leaning back like he’s impressed with something, wet hair like he’s just taken a shower. Pavel’s alone in the house, so he doesn’t hesitate to strip off all of his clothes immediately, walk around, stroke himself. He takes _forever_ trying to take a picture for Hikaru, trying out various poses, not wanting to look stupid or laughable—blushing so hard it extends to his naked chest and he adjusts the color balance on his cameraphone. He ends up with a typical mirror shot, towels hanging embarrassingly in the background, the curve of his ass just visible in the almost-sideways pose he strikes. It’ll have to do. 

He didn’t think it would be sexy to do, just embarrassing and he’s so afraid of Hikaru’s response, but _ding_ :

 _Holy fuck Pavel_.

His cheeks start to hurt before he realizes he’s smiling. Hikaru’s on the other end, touching himself just like Pavel’s doing and it’s all because of _him_. He feels just ridiculous enough to take the delirious edge off of how aroused he is, and the sound of the phone buzzing hardly makes it through.

 _I wanna bite your neck_ , Pavel reads aloud, feeling loose, feeling free, like he always does when Hikaru talks to him. 

_You can do that once you’ve bent me over_ , he writes back. He’s still in the bathroom, so he presses his naked thighs against the cold porcelain of the counter, imagining it’s Hikaru’s warmth pushing him against it, that Hikaru’s hard cock is digging against his lower back, and his ass. It’s Hikaru’s hands that are reaching around for Pavel’s cock, grabbing hastily for the lube he keeps on hand because he wants Pavel _so much_.

 _Your skin looks so soft. I wanna bend you over_ , Hikaru’s written back, _eventually. grab that ass while I’m fucking it. but I wanna see your face when you feel a cock in your ass for the first time._. 

Hikaru does this sometimes, talks about him like they’re long distance lovers having phone sex, like there’s a possibility they’ll meet up eventually. Pavel can’t even bring himself to hope for it, he wants this so much, but he’s not as brave as Hikaru; he can’t talk about it. Hikaru will find someone else if he never fucks Pavel, but Pavel’s unpopular and foreign and his options are limited and he has to live in the moment, so sex is all he talks about. 

He tries to be coy about it. _how do you know it’s the first time_ , he types, slow, because it’s with one hand, the other probing at himself experimentally, getting himself warmed up. He’s never done more than two fingers, but he’s usually better, more relaxed, once he’s come once or twice. 

_pavel_ is the only response he gets, like Hikaru would have to be an idiot not to know that fifteen year old Pavel’s never been kissed by a man, but then another: _I should have known you were some kind of cock slut_

And Pavel comes, hard, in to the bathroom sink. 

A few moments later, leaning on his elbows, he types, _I want you to come all over me_.

They both come, a couple more times, talking about each other’s mouths and cocks and even their hands, and it’s over. 

 

At night, when Pavel lies in bed, he thinks a lot about homework, about his parents and neighbors, but the thoughts that weigh the heaviest are his indulgent fantasies about the future. He dreams of all the steps along the path to academic renown—scoring countless scholarships, publishing articles, the glowing looks on his professors’ faces, going home to a huge house with a hot boyfriend. But dreams about the near future occupy him too; he’s valedictorian of the senior class and everyone resents him for it, because he’s not their age, but he’ll show them. He sees himself giving a school-condemning, teacher-damning graduation speech that will make his class rally behind him on a warpath out of the ceremony.

Lately Hikaru’s always co-starring in these little dramas; he smiles up at the stage where Pavel gives his speech, he waits for Pavel at their favorite restaurant in the town where they go to college, and, sickeningly, Pavel even fantasizes about Hikaru meeting him at the door of their school gym, ready to dance with him at prom. He calls Pavel his boyfriend and knows how to waltz perfectly and fucks the hell out of him in the boys’ locker room, on the bench or in the shower. He smiles at Pavel from across a motel bed and tells Pavel that his skin is the softest thing he’s ever slept on. 

Pavel picks up his phone and checks its empty inbox for the ninetieth time that night. His dreams will have to do for now. 

 

The next day is hot as balls, and Pavel walks home alone, the sun bearing down on his shoulders and his neck aching from his heavy bookbag. His parents both work strange days, but they aren’t home when he arrives, so he goes upstairs to have a shower and a leisurely wank under the hot water. He thinks about Hikaru, as usual, imagining him biting his shoulder and pushing Pavel against the shower door. 

He goes downstairs in his shorts, looking for something to eat, and thinks about his parents, wondering if either of them is actually working. He knows they’re both having affairs of various types; he found out about his mother’s a while ago, reading her emails at three in the morning when she left her laptop on. They weren’t hidden at all and he has to wonder if she actually wanted someone to discover her. Pavel roots around in the pantry and hopes he never marries someone he’ll cheat on. He almost spills his box of cheez-its when he realizes there’s a note, signed strangely with his mother’s first name:

_Pavel:_  
Your father and I are going to Las Vegas for an important client. We’ll be back tomorrow. We put money for pizza in your checking account.  
Ana 

He stands eating out of the box for a few seconds before it sinks in. He’s alone. He’s been left alone overnight before, sure; it’s actually rather commonplace. But this time he has a boy’s phone number. A boy who appears to want nothing more than to come over and get him naked. His head is buzzing and he pulls out his phone, just to look at it, just to stare at it for a minute, wondering if he should, wondering if he could. Hikaru doesn’t live five minutes from his house. He could visit. He could be in Pavel’s house. With Pavel. Alone. 

The text is sent before he even knows what he’s doing: _hey_

It takes five whole minutes for Hikaru to respond, five minutes fraught with tension and doubt on Pavel’s part, wherein he brushes his teeth just in case. He doesn’t want to taste like cheez-its when he loses his virginity. The buzz of his phone makes him almost fall over:

 _what’s up?_ Hikaru’s sent, oblivious, and so cute. 

_My parents are out of town until tomorrow night._

The message hangs deliciously in the air, Pavel almost feels it leave his house and float across town to Hikaru, can almost see Hikaru’s reaction.

 _yeah?_ it’s simple, but it’s an entreaty, and Pavel answers his implicit questions: 

_yeah, do you wanna come over?_

It’s immediate: 

_are you serious?_

Pavel almost has to laugh, but yes, he’s serious, and he’s shaking when he gives Hikaru his house number, laughing with nervous energy. He goes upstairs to find his half used lube and the corny “sexy phrases” condoms his dad bought him for his fifteenth birthday. He gets a sick sort of thrill thinking about what his dad would only say if he knew exactly what was going on, but then gets distracted thinking about Hikaru, tossing around the box and humming, feeling stupid and happy and composed of thousands of raw nerves. He’s half hard already, but puts on some clothes, just for decorum’s sake.

When the doorbell rings Pavel can’t think about it, because if he thinks for a second he’ll lose it and will go hide in his bedroom until Hikaru goes away. So he closes his eyes tight, both hands on the doorknob. He wishes he could peek out at Hikaru’s face, but he can’t—he opens the door on the second knock, afraid for a minute but then there he is, standing there, and he’s fucking perfect. 

“Hi,” Pavel stammers out, the first thing he’s really ever said to Hikaru. The first time they’ve really looked at each other’s faces, up close.

“Hi,” Hikaru says, and his breathing is deeper than a normal person’s; his pulse jumps just under the neckline of his shirt. His neck is infinitely sexy, the tanned column of it curving in to his shoulder and chest, his adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. 

“Do you want to have a drink or something?” Pavel asks, and that had to be barely comprehensible, his accent straining every sound.

“Please tell me that’s just an excuse to get me inside,” Hikaru smiles at him, and Pavel nods quickly, pulling the door shut behind them, and Hikaru must know every dirty thought Pavel’s ever had because he’s pressed against the door instantly, shielded with Hikaru’s solid body, face to face and breathing each other’s air. 

They never talked about kissing. Pavel hears about some guys who don’t like to kiss the people they fuck, and hopes that’s not the case, though he’s turned on for a second at the thought of having Hikaru pound away his virginity before he’d even felt another man’s lips. His heart’s pounding and muffled, closed over by the muscle of Hikaru’s chest. 

Hikaru’s hands cup his shoulders, stroking the skin under his shirt and he laughs.

“What?” Pavel asks, looking up a few inches in to the heat of Hikaru’s eyes. 

“I knew it,” Hikaru says, taking Pavel’s jaw with one hand, “your skin’s so soft. Can I…?” 

“Yes.” 

He presses his mouth quickly over Pavel’s, who gasps loudly, pulling Hikaru to him and involuntarily humping against him—Hikaru responds by holding him faster to the door before lifting him up by the ass and grinding his thigh in to Pavel’s crotch. Pavel groans and grabs on to Hikaru, who’s laughing out curses. 

“Look at you, fuck,” he says, pulling at Pavel’s yellow polo shirt, tugging it over his head. “Does your mom buy your clothes?” he whispers in Pavel’s ear, resting his forehead against the door and looking at Pavel like he’s something pulled directly out of Hikaru’s fantasies. It makes Pavel feel braver, and he nods, making Hikaru groan in to his neck and pull off Pavel’s undershirt as well, mouthing his chin and up to his lips again. 

“My room is upstairs,” Pavel says, wrestling out of his shirt, and Hikaru moans in agreement, so Pavel begins to pull him by the hand across the living room.

“Wait,” Hikaru says, and here it is, the moment when Hikaru will tell him psych, just kidding, all a joke—“I’ve never, um. I’ve never done.. this kind of thing. Not with a guy, I mean.” 

Pavel just looks at him; he’s disoriented a little bit and every part of his body is warm and tingling, but he grabs Hikaru’s shoulder and says, “Neither have I. I mean. Not that I’ve.. done anything. With a girl.”

Hikaru smiles and says, “Yeah. Okay. It’ll be okay. You know, you’re really hot.” 

Pavel can feel the heat rush his face, and Hikaru places a wide open hand on his naked chest. He suddenly feels self conscious; he’s so skinny and Hikaru seems like he’ll be so fit, when his shirt’s off, when he’s naked with Pavel. 

“You blush,” Hikaru says, looking at the pink center of Pavel’s chest. “That’s so cute,” and the pink deepens. “And also fucking sexy.” 

“You too,” Pavel says, pulling Hikaru by his shirt toward the back of the house, where the stairs are. 

“Your house is huge,” Hikaru says, and it’s true, Pavel’s parents are rather high in the corporate food chain and they’re pretty well off.

“Yeah,” Pavel says, “You should see my bed.” 

He cleaned up a little before Hikaru got here, and most of his embarrassing crap—his pokemon blanket, his Terminator action figures—is stuffed away in his closet, guarded safely by the poster of Carl Sagan on the door. 

“Wow, you weren’t lying,” Hikaru says, dropping his jacket on the floor and touring the room. He stops at the foot of Pavel’s sizable bed and waves him forward, “C’mere,” with a grin, like the one in the picture saved to Pavel’s phone. 

Pavel approaches him cautiously, hyperaware of his bare chest and his nipples pinching up in the cold air, the goosebumps on his arms. 

Hikaru grabs him by the belt and kisses him hard, sure of himself, like he’s done this before, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Pavel. It’s warm and wet and makes Pavel shake--Hikaru pulls away first and looks down at Pavel’s belt, working to unclasp it, breathing hard when Pavel’s pants slip down his hips. 

“I don’t understand,” he says, murmuring. “Look at this. You have such a great body; there’s no reason for you to be wearing pleated khakis.” He slips his hands just under Pavel’s boxers, holding him by the hips, gripping Pavel to his body and shoving down his underwear. Pavel’s completely naked and Hikaru’s only shed his jacket; he feels that sense of objectification again and all his senses are heightened; he’s so naked and vulnerable and there’s Hikaru, tall, wrapped around him with this look in his eyes that says there’s nothing he wants more than Pavel, like this: stripped, ready. 

“I’m sorry if my pants offended you,” he breathes onto Hikaru’s lips.

“You should be,” he smiles, “Walking around all covered up. I wanna see all this pale skin. Look at this.”

“Oh, fuck,” Pavel nearly screams as Hikaru wraps his hand around him all at once. He’s pinching his eyes shut and shuddering so hard, dying a million little deaths when Hikaru strokes him. He can’t help but whine over Hikaru’s shoulder when another arm comes to hold him, wrapping around his back, nearly lifting him off his feet.

“Here, lay down,” Hikaru says, pulling him toward the bed, but Pavel shakes his head, tugging at Hikaru’s shirt. He loves this new sensation, being treated like some kind of toy, but he needs Hikaru too, needs him without clothes immediately. 

When Hikaru’s shirt comes off, he’s struck again with disbelief. He can’t believe what’s happening, that Hikaru’s here, and fuck, there’s his naked chest, and his shoulders, his shirt catching on the back of Pavel’s own chair, right in Pavel’s room.

“Fuck,” he says, and almost forgets to continue with Hikaru’s pants, but he’s reminded, when his glance shifts to Hikaru’s slanted hipbones, where his boxers ride slightly higher than his jeans, which are bulging with Hikaru’s hard-on. There’s a warmth in his ears when Hikaru curls his thumbs under the waistband, and he can’t stand the slowness with which he pulls down his jeans. 

“Hey, sit down,” Hikaru coaxes him gently, and Pavel complies, sitting on the bed and leaning back on his hands, watching. “Are you nervous?” he asks Pavel, touching his knee, staring at where Pavel’s cock is hovering a centimeter off his belly. Pavel shakes his head, lying, sorta. “Good,” Hikaru says, smiling, “You shouldn’t be. God, you’re gorgeous.” 

Hikaru’s pants are slipping off, and Pavel isn’t even looking, just staring at the ceiling and breathing deep with his hands over his face. He’s near startled by Hikaru’s hand on his chest, stroking as he looks down at Pavel almost reverently, thumbing his nipple. 

“Damn,” Hikaru says, and now Pavel sees Hikaru’s cock pointed toward the ceiling, reddened and full, and so hard, hard enough to fuck him for days, Pavel thinks. Pavel scoots back on the mattress, inviting Hikaru forward, whose breaths push his whole chest outward and who scrambles on the bed to join him. 

Pavel closes his eyes, feeling Hikaru’s knee dip the bed, and lays down, pulling Hikaru with him, Hikaru’s elbows bracing him on either side of Pavel’s body. When his body settles down over Pavel’s, it’s bliss, it’s heaven created especially for him, Hikaru’s warm flesh bearing down on him, sheltering him from the cold of the air conditioning. He can almost tell himself this is normal, this is what they do every day after school, they’re boyfriends, but the startling newness of Hikaru’s naked skin on his wipes the fantasy from his mind.

“Oh, God,” he moans when their cocks touch, press together between their bellies, and he’s quick to wrap his legs around Hikaru’s waist, throwing his head back in to the mattress and moaning. Hikaru’s grunting and grabbing him all over, trying to find the best leverage to thrust down on him, and neither of them are going to last very long, wanting this so much. 

Pavel’s legs are scrabbling almost of their own volition, trying to lock down harder on Hikaru, get him closer, and Pavel wonders _is it_ dry _humping when your precome is leaking everywhere and you’re about to come all over eachother? Is it wet humping?_ but Hikaru grabs his face desperately, biting at his lower lip, licking his teeth, interrupting his thought process. It’s when he finally surrenders, feeling nothing but Hikaru’s skin that he lets go hard, pumping all over himself, over Hikaru. 

He’s still shuddering, coming back to himself, when Hikaru moans weakly, whispering _Oh my God_ and starting to lick Pavel’s own come off his nipples. 

“ _Shit_ ,” he groans, in Russian, his legs flying, “Fuck, Hikaru, Hikaru…” 

“Yeah?” Hikaru says, “Y’know, it doesn’t taste so bad..” and Pavel laughs; he’s on cloud nine, he’s blown away, he’s gone. Until he realizes—

“You didn’t come,” he pants drowsily, looking at the boy in his bed, whose eyebrows arch, who’s fisting his own cock just enough to keep his boner.

“Yeah,” he’s staring at Pavel, eyelids dropping, heavy. 

“Here,” Pavel pulls Hikaru by the arms to lay flat on his bed, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s feeling so light, he has to try. 

Hikaru moans loud as soon as he realizes what Pavel’s doing, scooting down Hikaru’s body awkwardly and fascinated with the flesh slipping under his hands. Hikaru’s cock is thick and straining, flushed dark with blood and Pavel’s kind of scared of how big it is. When he wraps his hand tentatively around it, Hikaru’s back arches incredibly and it’s the hottest thing Pavel’s ever known, the thought he’s done that. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” Hikaru is whimpering with his eyes shut, not demanding anything but not patient sounding either. Pavel starts stroking his cock slowly, with tight pulls; he’s not used to equipment that’s not his own. 

“Do you like that?” he asks, and he can’t believe it’s come out of his mouth, but Hikaru nods and thrusts in to his hand, begging with his whole body. 

Pavel licks the side a little bit but then decides he’s being a pussy and swallows the whole head, choking these sounds out of Hikaru that he can’t believe, teeth sucking and whining. 

“Oh god,” Hikaru looks down, and with a little maneuvering, their eyes meet, “Oh shit, the way you look.. How you look when you’re doing that..” 

After that he really gets in to it, and he’s painfully hard again; It’s a bit more work than he thought it would be to suck cock but it’s intense to revel in the feeling of a man fucking his face, of Hikaru using his mouth to get off. When Hikaru grabs the sides of his face and thrusts down his throat, he almost chokes but his cock twitches between his legs where he’s pulling at it desperately. 

“Fuck!” It’s Hikaru’s last exclamation and this is the total payoff: Hikaru spilling in to his mouth, warm and throbbing and perfect, and it’s not as hard to swallow as he’d expected. Hikaru’s hands wander all over his shoulders and through his hair, thumbing his temples like they’re made of gold. He’s murmuring, _oh my god, oh my god,_ and Pavel’s struck by the weird conclusion that he may have done really well, and he can’t help it: he tugs himself a few more times and comes all over his and Hikaru’s legs, his head nestled and breathing in the warm scent between Hikaru’s legs, and it’s the best orgasm ever. 

Once his legs get over the rubbery feeling that’s coursing through all of him, he climbs over Hikaru and walks for the towel he put on the dresser beforehand, just for this. The room suddenly feels too air-conditioned, and Pavel can’t help but wonder how many minutes will pass until Hikaru will have to go. 

“Hey,” Hikaru says while he’s toweling the come off of his stomach, and when Pavel turns, the sight is goddamn glorious: Hikaru naked and stretched out on his sheets. For some reason, it makes him feel a bit worse. “C’mere,” Hikaru says, his arms out like he’s already accepting Pavel back in to them, “I want to.. y’know.” 

Pavel laughs in relief and crawls back in to his bed, and Hikaru shivers a bit and pulls Pavel’s blankets over them, tucking them under Pavel’s side like a child. Hikaru must’ve done this with a lot of girls, before Pavel. The calm that sweeps over him is incalculable, his eyes closing in post-orgasm weariness, the smell of Hikaru’s skin potent just under his face. Their feet touch and Hikaru’s hand closes over his ribs and he could die. 

“So… I’m never getting with another girl ever, ever again,” Hikaru jokes, and when Pavel opens his eyes, the smile on Hikaru’s face is wide and comical and he has to laugh. 

“Was it that good?” Pavel asks, “Being with a.. y’know. Being with a guy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe it’s just you, though.”

Pavel rolls his eyes, wondering if Hikaru’s as settled with his sexuality as he’s been led to believe. “Don’t kid yourself,” he says.

Hikaru laughs, “No, no, I mean. You’re just so cute.”

Pavel raises his eyebrows, and rubs his eyes to adjust his contacts. “I’m a nerd.”

“Yeah,” Hikaru agrees, “but it’s hot though. I like when you talk.”

“Talk like what? A nerd?” 

“Yeah, I like it. With the accent,” Hikaru says.

Pavel rolls his eyes, smiling because he can’t believe he’s having this conversation with the hottest and probably the smartest boy in his school, aside from himself, the prodigy, the _wunderkind_. 

“You’re intelligent though. You won that award,” They both know what Pavel’s talking about; Hikaru won the County chemistry fair first prize last month. It was right before they’d started texting. “I only got second place.” 

“Yeah, and you sulked about it all day, sore loser,” Hikaru says, tickling Pavel’s sides, making them both squirm in the bedsheets and tumble with laughter. “That’s why I went hunting for your number. You were so cute that day. And your project was better than mine.” 

“You admit it!” Pavel says, staring up at Hikaru and he can’t believe he’d never been so physically close to him before tonight. 

“Jesus, you know you’re a fucking genius, Pavel,” Hikaru smiles. “You’re such a dork. Fuck, I’ve never seen so many polo shirts.” Hikaru’s looking at Pavel’s dresser, where his laundry is stacked, all of the clothes his mother buys for him. Pavel groans and buries his head in Hikaru’s chest, who laughs and wraps his arms around Pavel’s back. It feels insanely good to experience Hikaru’s laughter like this, like he’s feeling it first hand and the rest of the room only feels a cheap echo. “It’s cute though,” he says, “the way you dress. How you tuck everything in. It just seems so innocent.”

Pavel blushes; he’s always cared about his clothes, secretly, but it’s something that’s evaded his grasp: how to dress like Hikaru does, like he doesn’t care but also like every bit of effort counts. It’s a weird thing to think about, when they’re both naked and wrapped around each other like they’ve done this before. They look like they could be together this way, the tones of their skin and eyes complimenting each other like no suit and tie ever could. It’s hard to say, which way he prefers Hikaru. Well, no it’s not. He’s got a picture on his phone to illustrate that preference. Pavel snorts at the thought and Hikaru looks at him quizzically. 

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling,” Pavel says, flushing. “I, at first. I didn’t believe it was you. On the phone.”

“What do you mean?” Hikaru’s smiling. “Why would I lie?”

“I thought someone was playing a trick on me. I wasn’t sure it was you until you sent that picture.”

Hikaru nods. “I love that picture. Of you. It made me wanna bite you. Like this,” and he nips Pavel’s ear gently, which is probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “And also, masturbate. A lot. Sorry I didn’t talk to you at school first, though. I tried.”

Pavel laughs, “You did not, liar.”

“Well, not, y’know, that you could see! I just. I was nervous. You seemed so standoffish.” 

“I just don’t know how to talk to people,” Pavel says, picking at his fingernails, which is weird, because he can see Hikaru’s cock, and the rest of him, when he lifts the blankets to look at his hands. “How did you get my number anyway?” 

“Nyota. She said she was doing a French project with you and I stole it from her phone when she wasn’t looking.” 

“Thief.”

“Yeah. Jim caught me though, Jim Kirk. He asked for your number too.”

“What?” Pavel’s brow creases, “Why?”

“I dunno.. I think he might’ve.. I wouldn’t give it to him, though. He gets with so many guys. He doesn’t, I don’t think he deserves y’know, someone like you. I think.” He looks at Pavel like he’s begging him to say something, but Pavel just rests his hand on Hikaru’s face, curling his palm around Hikaru’s jaw. 

“Hikaru?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this is the most we’ve ever talked.”

Hikaru laughs, “Without mentioning the word ‘cock’, yeah.” Hikaru grabs his ass to punctuate the statement, and they don’t let each other go for another few hours.

They call for pizza eventually, and it’s discovered that Hikaru shares some of Pavel’s obsessions while they dig through his DVDs and comics, stark naked all the while. Pavel feels so brave and new that he finds the key to his parents’ liquor cabinet and breaks in, though he only has the balls to take a rather unimportant-looking bottle of wine, Hikaru laughing in his ear and grinding into his hip all the while. 

Around eleven they get it in their brains to have actual sex, but pretend they’re too drunk to try it, giving each other sloppy blowjobs to wear down each others’ nervousness. Pavel hopes they’ll do it eventually though, when he’s used to having more than a finger or two in his ass. They fall asleep with the light on, making the room seem dreamlike to Pavel, who wakes up a few times in the night, not used to another boy in his bed. He’s blindingly happy when he remembers Hikaru, why he’s there. It’s amazing to him how well they’ve gotten on, and he hopes this isn’t some usual thing for Hikaru, who said he’d never been with another boy before. He has to wonder, though, with how many friends he has, and with what he said about Jim, who’s supposed to be his best friend. He worries like this, but then Hikaru will move a little, or his mouth will drop open with the tiniest sound, and he can’t help but burrow against his back and fall asleep again, head clear of anything but joy. 

He wakes up with the light off a few minutes before his alarm, the grey sky illuminating his bedroom and making everything seem monochromatic. There’s an empty space where Hikaru should be, and a text message on his phone. Kissy face. Pavel snorts, but doesn’t delete it. 

His routine is strangely normal, and sifting through his locker at school he can’t help but wonder if the night before actually happened, especially when Hikaru walks by him in the hall without so much as a wave, crowded by all of his friends. His stomach pans out from his chest to his knees and he remembers the pictures of Janice Rand with startling clarity. He feels even more stupid because he’s wearing a shirt without a collar and actual jeans, clothes he and Hikaru had semi-drunkenly found last night, clothes Hikaru had thrust at him and said, “These! These,” punctuating each word with a kiss on the side of his face. 

He’s so lost, staring at the sides of his textbook that he doesn’t notice Hikaru at all until he leans against the locker next to him, his gaggle of friends gone. 

“Hey,” he says, “Sorry. I didn’t see you until Nyota said something.”

“Nyota?”

“Yeah, I may have—said something. About last night. I hope you don’t mind,” and he’s smiling so hard that Pavel can’t hold it against him, shaking his head. “Cool, good! I mean, because—I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out tonight. With us. Some friends, I mean.”

Pavel entirely forgets that he hates people, that he has no friends and nods vigorously, unbelieving. “Yeah! I mean yes, okay.” 

“Great! I have this weird feeling you’ll get along well with Spock.” 

“He hates me. He’s second in the class,” Pavel says, and Hikaru laughs. 

“That’s not surprising, then. So, after school, yeah? Just um.. uh, don’t let Jim sit next to you? He can be a little.. yeah,” Hikaru starts to back up, but lunges forward at the last second to kiss Pavel’s cheek, on the side of his mouth. He looks around to make sure no one’s around, and waves: “I’ll see you later then!”

“Bye!” Pavel calls, his stomach swimming, his face hurting from smiling, his vision bright. He’ll be entirely distracted by thoughts of Hikaru for the rest of the day. Maybe Spock _will_ end up getting his place on the school roster. Although, now, Pavel can’t imagine caring.


End file.
